


A Dressing Down

by Tobiaspaceship



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga)
Genre: 90s Anime, Between Scene Speculation, F/F, Genderqueer!Haruka, Strap-Ons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-20
Updated: 2017-09-20
Packaged: 2018-12-31 20:39:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12140682
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tobiaspaceship/pseuds/Tobiaspaceship
Summary: Why exactly were Haruka and Michiru so late to the battle in episode 180? Curious minds probably know but confirmation is always good.





	A Dressing Down

“Help me with this?”

Haruka’s gaze snapped away from the closed door. They knew that tone. Michiru only ever used that when… Haruka gulped. Michiru’s eyes smoldered from over her shoulder, posed like an old pin-up poster they’d seen so long ago. Or maybe it was last week. Was it last week? Could’ve maybe been - _Focus Haruka!_  

They blinked, coming back into the moment, and gave a sly smile of their own. “Alright.”

Michiru turned fully to face the mirror, offering her back. For a moment, Haruka paused. The scene they had just walked in on - Michiru with her back to the door and a strange man way too close for comfort - flashed in their mind. Something too close to jealousy for their liking sat underneath their skin. But Michiru was here, and that Seiya Kou whoever was gone so... Haruka’s hands began to wander, smoothing over Michiru’s bare shoulders. She shivered at their touch. And despite the still teasing smile on her face, they knew Michiru was beginning to unravel. Slowly, but unraveling all the same. All because of them. A thrill ran through Haruka at the thought.

Another ran up their spine at the feel of her eyes on them through the mirror. They always could tell when Michiru looked at them. Even without seeing it themself. Michiru’s gaze felt like the wind off the coast at the gentlest of times - tingling yet soft. But in moments like this? Nothing else stirred up urges the same.

“So possessive,” Michiru hummed. Haruka’s answer wasn’t exactly eloquent - a noise mixed between a grunt and a hum - but they could tell it made her happy. Maybe, Haruka thought, there had been a time when that would’ve been the end of it. Before everything. Or even just a few months ago. They would’ve danced around each other, too afraid to lay any claim. Not anymore.

Not tonight. 

They dipped a slow kiss right above the zipper of her dress.  “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you,” Haruka said against Michiru’s skin. The confession still felt strange - words weren’t exactly their strong suit. Action was better. Their mouth trailed down the newly exposed path the zipper made. One slow, hot kiss after another. Each kiss made Michiru tremble until she was whimpering at Haruka’s touch. Her hand found its way into their hair, tugging as they made their way back up her spine.

“Jealous?” Michiru teased through a gasp. Haruka’s hand slid across her ribs. They smiled against her skin as she squirmed at the feeling and whimpered with disappointment when they didn’t move any farther upwards. They could tease too. 

“I’m not jealous.” They weren’t surprised at her disbelieving laugh. Haruka hadn’t even convinced themself with that one. The uncomfortable prickling in their chest picked up. “I’m not.” They tried again, brushing their fingertips along the underside of Michiru’s breast.

Michiru arched into their touch. Slowly, one hand palmed her breast while the other ventured boldly down. Another gasp, breathy and light, filled the air as the edge of Haruka’s thumb dragged along Michiru’s hipbone. 

“Of course not,” Michiru mused, words breaking as she struggled to keep composure. It was still a game they played. Probably always would, Haruka guessed. They pulled her closer against them, wrapping an arm around her middle. Michiru was always good at aloof while Haruka grumbled. It made it all the more sweeter when that composure cracked. And they knew now exactly how to crack it. 

Michiru’s breath hitched the moment their fingers brushed over the patch of wiry hair. She was always so sensitive after a performance. Being in front of that many people, baring her soul in such a way - it was like drowning, she’d said once. Drowning and then coming back up for air. Every single nerve tingling and screaming for air that she can only get through Haruka’s touch. 

It’d be cruel to deny her. 

Michiru’s hands clutched tightly to Haruka’s arm the moment their fingers dragged against her slit. Slowly. Still teasing. Working at the sensitive skin behind her ear with their mouth Haruka breathed, “I love how wet you get after a performance.” 

Muscle clenched around their fingertips and her hips rocked back to meet their own. This time, it was Haruka’s turn to whimper as the base of the strap-on ground up against them. Michiru’s laugh was a breath of her own. 

“No wonder you’re so possessive today,” she said, gasping at every stroke of their fingers. Reaching behind her with one hand, she fussed and fumbled with the button of their trousers. Haruka was already ahead of her - two seconds later they were standing in their boxer briefs, and fishing the plastic cock above the waistband. Their ears were pounding with their own heartbeat and it was just too damn hot in here. Michiru was too damn hot, too beautiful, too - 

Their thoughts were cut short by the choppy strokes Michiru’s hand had started. “You’re always so touchy -” Haruka whined at the particularly emphatic stroke - “when you wear this, my love.” She smiled back at them through the mirror. Face flushed, hair mussed, dress threatening to fold off her at any second, Michiru looked every bit the victor of the night. “I love - ah!” she cried out at the feel of two fingers sinking into her. 

“I love how you get like this,” Michiru continued, words broken around gasps of air as Haruka finger fucked her. “So adamant… rough…. God, I love your co- Ah!” She jolted at the light swipe over her clit. “Fuck, Haruka…” 

Molten electricity raced under Haruka’s skin at the sudden profanity. Michiru’s secret weapon always worked and she didn’t even do it on purpose. It wasn’t fair. But once was never enough. 

“Say it again,” Haruka growled into Michiru’s shoulder. A tight gasp was their reward as teeth sank into skin. “Say it again.” 

Michiru keened as Haruka’s fingers brushed against her front wall. Squirming in their arms, her mouth falling open slightly, she met their eyes in the mirror’s reflection. For a moment, the world hung in liquid suspension. Drowned in the scalding sea of her eyes what use was there for air? All that was was Michiru and heat. 

“Fuck me, Haruka.” 

Haruka’s world rushed back with whiplash ferocity. Something like a tempest roared in their ears and Michiru’s whimpering cry harmonized beautifully as their fingers slipped back into cool air. For a second, Haruka debated teasing. Michiru was always beautiful, but there in that moment, she was so. So much more. Her guard down and her pristine mask put aside - this was one of Haruka’s favorite sides of Michiru. Moments like this deserved to be drawn out as long as possible, right? 

It was a serious thought. For about half a second. Those deep blue eyes fluttered shut the same instant her hips ground desperately back against her hand and their cock. “Haruka, fuck me!” 

It was the closest thing Michiru ever got to begging and the knowledge shot straight to their core. Desperately, they both fumbled with the rest of Michiru’s dress. The zipper caught more than once. 

“Fucking..” 

“Just -” 

Fabric ripped apart under Michiru’s hands and fell at her feet in an untidy heap. Slightly shocked Haruka couldn’t help the grin spreading across their face. 

“I could’ve gotten it,” they said, running their hands over her bare skin. Michiru arched into their touch, leaning her head back against their shoulder for a moment. Tonight, they promised themself as their fingers rolled over puckered patches of skin, tonight they’d pay attention to each and every scar. But right now, Michiru’s hand was back to jacking them off and oh. Oh god. They wouldn’t last long if she kept that up. Determination and urgency had set back in and they needed her _now_. 

A swift kick sent the chair sprawling to the side. Haruka sent a quick thank you to whatever thought Michiru had had before to pack up because anything left on the counter - counter? Desk? What was that thing in front of the mirror called anyways? - would be on the floor. And Michiru had very specific feelings about her makeup on the floor. But only after they’d be done with her. 

With one final nip to the back of her neck, Haruka pushed Michiru forward at the waist, keeping her hips pressed back to theirs. She squeaked in pleasant surprise, settling herself on her forearms before tossing her hair over her shoulder to look back up at them.

“Not exactly what I was expecting,” she said.

Haruka grinned, a bit sharp around the edges. “You wanted possessive.” Gripping the strap-on in one hand, they slid the head against her slick slit.

Michiru’s eyes rolled back with a flutter when it bumped against her clit. “Haruka, just fuck me.”

They didn’t need to be told twice.

Slowly, Haruka pushed forward. Michiru’s soft moan was heaven. The way it started low and broke off into a gasp the more she took. Her head bent forward to rest against her hands and something buzzed under Haruka’s skin. They needed her to see them. To watch and know it was them filling her up like this.

Fisting aqua curls, they pulled back Michiru’s head until they could see her eyes in the reflection. Her hips bucked back for a moment as they did. Haruka held them there like that, both drinking in the sight themself and letting Michiru adjust to them inside her.  It was hard, standing there completely still while she panted below them. It seemed that every bit of them demanded to move, move, move. So when blue found green again and the wind in Haruka’s veins roared, they were powerless to stop it.

“Don’t look away,” they said. They felt her nod as best she could in their grasp, trust shining in her eyes through the thick cloud of lust. A quick gentle kiss was dipped to the center of Michiru’s shoulders before Haruka began to rock their hips.

It was supposed to have been a slow build. Starting off slow and steady to really wind Michiru up until she was begging for them. Or as close to begging as Michiru could really get. But all plans had gone out the window the moment Haruka’s name left Michiru’s lips in that heavenly moan. Their hips snapped forward, drawing a yelp from Michiru that rolled into those delicious sharp sounds of pleasure. All because of them. 

“Michiru…”

“That’s it,” she gasped in answer. “Right there..” She keened at a particularly hard thrust, eyes fluttering shut only to fly back open as Haruka tugged sharply at her hair.

“Watch me, Michiru,” they growled, picking up the pace. Enjoying how she gasped and whined with every full stroke of their cock inside of her. “I want you to watch me fuck you.”

“God.” Michiru practically writhed against the countertop. Her breath fogged the glass slightly as she panted for breath, her face flushed beautifully pink. “God... Haruka, don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

Like hell they would. Every stroke, every jerk of their hips had Michiru moaning their name and it was everything they wanted in the world to make her keep saying it. Make her understand how much they loved her and would do anything just to hear her say their name. Make her loved and protected and safe in the knowledge that Haruka was Michiru’s until the end of time.

Something soft and warm picked up at the base of Haruka’s skull. It pulsed, almost lightly in time with their thrusts, spreading through their blood until everything felt at ease. Peaceful. Soothing. It wrapped around them like a warm blanket until all Haruka wanted to do was rest under the moon’s gentle light.

Wait what -

Haruka stilled, confused. The moon? Where had…? Oh no.

“Not now.” Michiru’s eyes screwed shut in an uncharacteristic scowl in the mirror’s reflection. Haruka heaved a sigh in agreement. At least they weren’t the only one upset with current events.

Biting their lip, Haruka glanced back at the door. They should go. Usagi was close by, they could feel it. And most assuredly alone. Unless one of the others had come to pick her up, which, if they were being truthful, seemed incredibly unlikely. The princess had seemed way too comfortable hanging around with that Kou kid to call for a ride. They bristled at the thought of Kou putting Usagi in danger.

“Haruka.” Michiru’s sigh brought them back to the dressing room. Her head had fallen forward against the counter, her face obscured by her hair. Michiru always took a moment extra to collect herself when she was well and truly worked up. And they’d been so close…

“We should go,” Haruka said, posing it more of a question, because honestly. They were torn. Leave Michiru and save Usagi? Or trust Sailor Moon to take care of herself and finish with the rough sex? Neither option seemed really appealing to their tastes.

Ever brilliant, ever dutiful Michiru had the answer. She always did. Waving with her hand for Haruka to pull out, she made to stand. A guilty pang went through them as she stood naked, slightly shivering from their efforts.

“Do you want my shirt?” They offered, fussing with the strap on and making their trousers look presentable. Michiru tilted her head, considering.

“No,” She said after a moment. “I have a jacket in the car. But thank you.” She leaned up to kiss their cheek. The soft warmth was a tingling now, settling into their fingertips. They needed to go. The Moon was calling.

“Besides,” Michiru said, drawing them back one last time. Her lip rod already in her hand and not a stitch on her, she stepped past Haruka for the door. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she cast them a look much like that she had before. “You can finish bending me over the vanity after we save the princess.”

The cooled lust sparked back to life and Haruka took a moment to focus. Vanity? Oh. That’s what it was called. They grinned and followed, fingering their own lip rod. Michiru always knew what was on their mind.


End file.
